


Carry Me Tonight

by MaleficentorMagnificent (NattheBattz)



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, lmao apparently I can't stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NattheBattz/pseuds/MaleficentorMagnificent
Summary: An alternative ending to 3x04.





	Carry Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I thought that guy looked like an Anthony, so that's what I'm calling him here. There's no sex in this fic, although there are sexual themes mentioned, so,,,, do with that what you will.

Claire has had too many drinks, and she realizes this as she catches her focus flitting between the sounds of her coat rubbing against the brick wall at her back and Anthony’s labored breathing. His lips pressing sloppy, frantic kisses against her neck, and Claire normally loves that. She’s shaken to feel close to nothing at the contact. His hands begin to roam, running possessively over the curves of her hips and reach behind her to grab her ass. He uses the new angle to press up into her, pinning her against the wall, his hand sliding down to bring her right leg up around his hip. She originally planned to go back to his place, but his aggressiveness along with her unresponsiveness is making her debate letting him fuck her right here and now so they can go their separate ways sooner. She’s wondering about the likelihood of him having a condom on him when his left hand reaches between her legs beneath her dress, rubbing at her through her underwear. Claire shivers, but realizes with a sinking feeling that it’s not with arousal. She pushes him away with a deep, shuddering breath, the sudden motion making her sway and stumble slightly. Anthony stumbles back as well, blinking rapidly in drunken confusion at the sudden change. 

“I can’t do this.” Claire says as she tries to straighten out her rumpled clothes as best she can. 

“That’s okay, I kind of want to do more than we could get up to out here anyway.” He replies with a large smirk as he adjusts himself so that his erection isn’t as prominent against his pants. “Let’s go.” He says as he grabs her hand and begins leading her toward the street to hail a cab. She plants her feet causing him to stumble back when he keeps walking. 

“No, I mean at all. I need to go.” She explains. She sighs as his brows furrow. They really are too drunk for this.

“I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” He asks, and Claire feels a rush of relief at him sounding more concerned than angry. She shakes her head, but quickly stops when the motion causes her to sway slightly. 

“I just... have somewhere else I need to be. Sorry.” Claire answers, wincing at how it wasn’t really an answer at all. 

“Alright then. Can I at least get your number? I wouldn’t mind picking this up again sometime.” He says with a knowing grin, and Claire can’t hold back her surprised laugh. 

“I don’t think so. But thank you for the offer of a lovely time.” Claire replies with a small wave before turning around and pulling out her phone to get a Lyft, knowing she’s way too drunk to drive right now. She must lean against a light post as she waits to keep from falling over. The brisk night air helps her mind from completely surrendering to her intoxication. She tries to plan what she’s going to say while she waits, but she can’t remember everything she wants to say. She watches as several cars pass by, the lights briefly illuminating those walking down the sidewalk. Claire briefly thanks herself for not having sex in that alley now seeing how busy this street is. Finally, a small silver car pulls up, and after checking who the driver is, Claire clambers into the backseat, the leather squeaking under her clumsy movements. The ride is quiet, the driver playing some Top-15 radio station that Claire only half pays attention to. Fifteen minutes into the ride and Claire’s shoes are in her purse, despite her not recalling taking them off. The car comes to a stop in front of a tall apartment building that Claire’s never seen in person yet. 

She bites her lip with indecision. Before she had gotten off the bus, Morgan had given her her address and told her that if she needed anything to come by. Claire had jokingly told her it was a little late for a sleepover invite, and Morgan had waved her off and told her to come by at any time, day or night. Claire hadn’t planned on taking her up on her offer ever, yet here she was drunk off her ass, mere hours later. Claire steels herself before entering the code for the front doors, exhaling when with an electronic beep and an audible click, the doors open. Realistically Claire knows that Morgan wouldn’t give her a false key code, but she had still been anxious about it. She walks in and looks around taking in the lobby area with tasteful prints hanging along the walls, the air warm, and refreshing after being outside. Claire blinks sluggishly as the alcohol in her system begins to overtake her. She sighs heavily in an attempt to focus herself. 

She walks to the elevator and presses the call button, the doors opening almost immediately. She steps in and presses the button for the fifth floor, leaning back against the rear wall as it takes her up. The ceiling of the elevator is mirrored, and she can see her reflection when she tilts her head up and the elevator swims as she takes in the red blush on her cheeks, a mix of her intoxication and the cold of outside. It takes her another five minutes to locate the door to Morgan’s apartment, and another three for Claire to remember she has to ring the doorbell. As she stands there waiting, she suddenly wants to leave. She contemplates running back to the elevator, so she can pretend she didn’t come here in the middle of the night when an exhausted Morgan is obviously going to be asleep. Another part of her wants to ring the doorbell and bang on the door until Morgan opens the door, but Claire figures that’s the more drunk part of her. She’s about to turn around and leave, deciding not to intentionally wake the other woman when the door opens. 

Morgan’s hair is messier than Claire’s ever seen it, her pajamas are wrinkled from sleep, and she blinks herself awake when she sees her. She steps out into the hallway, her hands going to Claire’s face and hair, inspecting her. “Claire. Are you okay? Do you have any idea what time it is? Why are you out? Come in.” Morgan says as she leads Claire back into her home, where she immediately drops her purse, one of her shoes clattering out onto the floor.

“‘M drunk.” Claire says as if it’s an answer to all the questions she was just asked. In a way she supposes it could be. Morgan’s lips thin in disapproval. “What’s that look for?” Claire asks, and she wonders if she is slurring as badly as it sounds like she is. 

“Nothing. You’re allowed to cope however you see fit. Just remember that you’re a doctor, so your definition of fit should reflect that.” Morgan answers, and Claire is sure there’s bait for an argument there, yet she’s too drunk and tired to take it. “What’re you doing here?” Morgan asks once more. Claire closes her eyes as the room swirls. 

“I don’t know. I just,” Claire pauses to take a deep breath, her throat closing up as her eyes start to burn with the promise of tears, “I knew I’d be able to feel something if I was with you.” Claire explains, realizing the truth of the words as she says them. Morgan has a way of reading Claire that she finds annoying most of the time, but it has helped so much today. She’s still hurting, wishing she could go back in time and pour out that fucking bottle, but something in Morgan’s presence soothes the ache. Claire’s entire world irrevocably shifted, and she tried to bear that alone, yet there was Morgan. Annoying, persistent, nosy, meddling Morgan with her encouragement and understanding and compassion. Claire doesn’t realize she’s crying until Morgan reaches forward, cupping her cheeks in her hands again, using her thumbs to wipe away her tears. 

“Do you need anything?” Morgan asks as her eyes roam over Claire’s face, looking for her own clues as to what the other woman might ask for. Claire doesn’t even consciously decide to do it, but she’s leaning forward and pressing her lips to Morgan’s, nonetheless. The kiss is soft, and Morgan is tense for the first second, kissing her back in the second, and pulling away all too soon by the next. Claire frowns and leans back, feeling relief as Morgan drops her hands from cupping her face to rub her gently rub at her arms. “I might be legally drunk just from that one kiss; you taste like you shut the bar down, Claire. Please tell me you didn’t drive here.” Morgan says as she reaches a hand up to start massaging her fingers against Claire’s scalp. She smiles gently when Claire shakes her head in response. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” Claire blurts, wondering why Morgan is acting like they didn’t just do that. The blonde woman rolls her eyes at her. 

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, Claire. I just don’t want to do anything while you’re so intoxicated. If you still want to when you’ve sobered up, then we can talk.” Morgan says with a small smile. Claire feels a smile of her own cross her lips. 

“Okay, deal.” Claire says with a large grin of her own. As she steps forward, she loses her balance and stumbles into the small coat-rack that Morgan has standing near the door. Morgan sighs as she reaches forward to steady her. 

“Come on, I’ll help you.” She says, guiding Claire further into the apartment. She has to lean on Morgan heavily to remain upright, her movements becoming sloppier and more uncoordinated as time goes on. Claire wants to take her time exploring the other woman’s home, but she’s too focused on the words echoing through her head. They pose a question that she’s been wondering all day. They’re in the bedroom by the time Claire remembers how to ask the question she has. 

“Why?” She asks. The word is so slurred that it sounds more like a groan at this point, but Morgan understands what she’s asking. 

“Why what?” Morgan asks as she helps Claire sit on the edge of her bed. Claire notes that the covers are thrown back, more evidence that she had been an inconvenience and woken the other doctor up.

“Why are you helping me?” She asks, her brows furrowing in thought. Morgan sighs. 

“Because you came to me.” Morgan replies as if it should be obvious. Claire looks at her for a moment before realizing that isn’t the answer she wants. She shakes her head as she tries to plan her next words. However, the alcohol in her system is beginning to make coherent thought incredibly difficult. She blinks and then Morgan is standing in front of her with pajamas in her left hand and a tall glass of water in the other. She’s confused but recognizes that she must be blacking in and out. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Claire elaborates, as she reaches for the glass being offered to her. She doesn’t particularly want the drink, but she knows that she’ll be thankful for it in the morning. 

“I’m sorry, what’s not what you meant? You dozed for a bit while I was getting these things.” Morgan explains as she sets the folded clothes down next to her. 

“Oh.” Claire exhales, letting the half-full glass drop from her lips. “I asked why you’re helping me, I meant at all. Today. I thought you were just fucking with me again, but then you... cared.” Claire finishes, struggling to put such complex thoughts into coherent words. She kind of really just wants to go to sleep, but she’s been wondering about this all day, so her curiosity forces her to remain semi-conscious. She makes herself finish the glass of water, letting it roll out of her hand onto the bed once it’s empty. Morgan reaches out for it and places it on the nightstand, her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“What’s the likelihood you’re going to remember any of this tomorrow?” Morgan asks, frustrating Claire with her avoidance. 

“Honestly don’t know. I want to say I will, but I’ve already lost a bit of tonight. I think.” Claire answers truthfully. “Help me change.” Claire says, looking at the sleep clothes next to her. She doesn’t really care about getting those clothes on, so much as she just wants her dress off. 

“Okay, lean forward.” Morgan instructs as her hand searches for the start of the zipper at the back of Claire’s dress. She quickly finds it and pulls it down before using her hands to urge her to sit back up so she can ease the straps of her dress over her shoulders. Morgan is struck by how odd this feels, almost like she’s helping a patient. Only, a patient she finds incredibly endearing and cares for, for some unknown reason to even herself. She hopes Claire is too drunk to notice her blushing as she feels her cheeks warm. 

Oddly enough though, Claire suddenly looks as sober as she has all night, her eyes boring into her own. Claire grabs Morgan’s hands, stilling her, and Morgan forces herself to maintain the eye contact, knowing the alternative is looking at a half-naked Claire with her dress bunched around her hips. 

“What’s in it for you?” Claire asks, her face completely blank, not giving Morgan any insight to what she’s feeling or thinking. She wants to feel offended at the implication but can’t necessarily blame the other doctor for her doubts. Plus, she doubts Claire, in her drunken state means it maliciously. Her words are meant to be taken at face value, so she decides to be honest. It’s not likely Claire will remember this after all. 

“I suppose the same thing that’s in it for you, seeing as you came here and kissed me at four in the morning. Besides, you’re too nice to be alone through this. Not to imply you lack strength, but this is the perfect thing to break you. And I don’t—“ Morgan has to swallow heavily as her throat suddenly feels tight. She takes a deep breath and exhales sharply before continuing, “I really don’t want to see that for you.” Morgan confesses with a small frown. Claire blinks up at her then falls back onto the bed with a small huff. 

“Okay. Carry on.” Claire says with a wave of her hands and wiggle of her hips. Morgan’s taken aback by the lack of a more elaborate response but then again, she’s probably the fool for expecting Claire to be able to handle the conversation she’s trying to engage in her current state. Morgan rolls her eyes, because this is not how she had envisioned her night going this morning when she woke up. She reaches forward, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulls the fabric the rest of the way off the other doctor, leaving her in her bra and underwear. 

“Didn’t peg you for a boxers-type of girl.” Morgan says as she neatly folds Claire’s dress, setting it on the far edge of the nightstand where Claire will see it in the morning. Claire groans. 

“They’re comfy. But this isn’t.” She complains as she clumsily reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. She throws the article of clothing away from her, and Morgan thinks she hears her medical professionalism hit the floor alongside it as her cheeks burn. She averts her eyes down to the clothes she has for Claire to sleep in. She grabs the shirt and holds it up so that it blocks her from seeing the other woman. 

“Sit up so you can put this on.” Morgan says perhaps a little too fast to be considered casually, but she’s trying. She hears evidence that Claire is listening to her, the covers shifting but she can’t be sure. That is, until Claire yanks the shirt out of her hands. Morgan yelps and looks up to Claire’s eyes. She doesn’t move to put the shirt on though, and Morgan shifts her weight under the unfaltering gaze. “You’re supposed to put it on, Claire.” The woman in question looks down at the shirt in her hands and does as she’s told. 

“I don’t want to wear pants.” Claire groans looking at the pants in Morgan’s hands like she might cry if they touch her. Morgan turns and sets them down on top of her dress. 

“That’s okay. Do you need to pee before you go to sleep? Because cute or not, if you piss in my bed, Claire, so help me, I will make your life a living Hell.” Morgan warns with a stern tone. Claire smiles dopily at the idea but shakes her head in response. “Alright, get comfy then; I’m turning off the light.” She says, stepping away from the bed to do so. She hears Claire moving on the bed once more and waits until she situated herself under the covers before plunging the room into darkness. She moves for her bed before her eyes fully adjust but waits as she pulls the covers back further to get in so she can see where Claire is. She lies down next to her, keeping a few inches between them so Claire doesn’t feel like Morgan is crowding her. She finds out she didn’t need to worry about that as Claire suddenly slides her arm under Morgan’s neck and reaches over with her other hand to pull Morgan closer to her. 

“What are you doing?” Morgan asks even as she lets the other woman guide her head to rest against her shoulder. Claire shushes her as she gently squeezes her once in response. Morgan can’t help but laugh softly at the action. 

“Thank you.” Claire mumbles against the top of her head, her breath warm on her scalp in an oddly comforting way. 

“For what?” Morgan asks, but she doesn’t get an answer aside from a quiet snore as Claire finally falls asleep for the night. Morgan sighs. She’s sure she knows, but maybe she doesn’t, so it would’ve been nice to have clarification. She wonders if Claire will still have the nerve to tell her once she wakes up. Or if she herself should have the courage to thank Claire for trusting her with this part of her. She also thinks that it’s almost five in the morning and that she should let herself get back to sleep now. She sighs as she slightly adjusts herself against Claire’s body and lets the sound of her heartbeat lull her to sleep, content to be held for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Do they have work the next day? An evil part of me says yes.


End file.
